


Turning

by Cascaper



Series: In Kind [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, guess who literally just summoned ol' Jandy for the first time, it me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 06:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17442029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cascaper/pseuds/Cascaper
Summary: In which it is a new year, and thus time to turn a new leaf. Even a little one.





	Turning

**Author's Note:**

> POV: Third-person present tense. The italicized sections are memories from Haurchefant's point of view; all else is from Thosinund's.

Sifting through her pack, Thosinund comes across a creased old envelope.

It seems to have been in there for quite some time. The paper is worn soft with friction, the wax seal somehow only chipped rather than broken. And on the front it bears the phrase-  _For the Summoning of the Aesthetician_. Thosi has to take a moment to recall where she got it. She turns it over in her fingers, slowly, and lets her mind wander.

As long as she can remember, she’s worn her hair the same way. Two braids, one on each side, and bangs across her forehead. She didn’t for a moment consider changing it after she became an adventurer; she didn’t have the time. Then she met the Scions, and, well… it’s been a long six years since then. A very long six years.

And, well. She’s  _stuck_. In many ways. Waiting, waiting, endless waiting; all the tea-and-sympathy sessions in the world are not enough to get this latest, largest burden off her shoulders. Her braids have begun to feel like millstones, hanging either side of her neck.

So she takes a room at the Hourglass, breaks the seal of the token, and (with a word aloud to the moogle she knows must be about somewhere) sends it on its way.

–

_Camp Dragonhead  is almost quiet of late, thanks to a certain adventurer’s efforts in the area. One must go further and further afield to find aught on which to sharpen one’s sword. Even as far as Providence Point._

_To sharpen one’s sword, but also to have a bit of privacy._

“  _Dearest,” Haurchefant says, “have I mentioned I adore you?”_

“ _Once or twice,” Thosi answers. Squeezes his hand._

“ _Ah, good-”_

“ _Per bell,” she adds. “If not minute.”_

“ _Well, I –” The wind blows her braid into his face, but he only laughs, then catches it and presses it to his cheek. “Oho! A scarf in this chill air. Thank you, love.”_

“ _Don’t thank me yet,” she grins. “I can do better than that.”_

–

Thosi’s summons is answered rather sooner than she expected- within bells, there is a knock at her door. The instant she opens it, the knocker launches into a speech complete with all manner of extravagant gestures.

“Where languishing locks hang limp with fatigue, where tired tresses cry out for succor- Jandelaine shall be there! Show! Show me the coiffure in need of comfort, the mop to which I must minister! And I shall create these sad strands anew—” Then he seems to register Thosinund’s presence for the first time. “Twelve preserve us, Thosinund Haldkhanwyn herself asks for my aid! Come, come, dear lady, let us sit.”

The aesthetician sweeps past her into the room for all the world as though it were his own. He draws the chair out from the vanity and bows her into it, then starts to circle her.

“Now what might I do for you today? Have you need of the catalogue? Or shall you consign yourself to my instincts alone?”

Thosi finds herself amused, yet slightly flustered as Jandelaine peers at her head from every angle. “Well…” she says. “I know I want it shorter, but not too much. Beyond that, though, I trust your judgment.”

He lifts one braid across his palm. Studies it. “Hmm. Here?” He closes his fingers round it at the level of her shoulder.

“Higher.”

“Here?” He moves his grip to the level of her chin.

“There,” she agrees. “Have at it, ser.”

Without further ado, Jandelaine launches into action—his tools flashing in the light, his hands moving at blinding speed—until, all at once, he is several fulms away and posing triumphantly. “Behold: a beauty reborn!”

Thosinund blinks, little green spots dancing across her vision. Beyond these, in the mirror, she sees her new reflection.

One hand rises to brush the ends of the hair that now hangs just past her jawline by an ilm or so, aligning precisely with the lowest tip of her chin. Her bangs have been swept to the left, and a single braid has been wrapped over like a headband from the left side to the right. She feels around gingerly to see how it is fastened- there. Several pins secure the end of the braid behind her ear.

“Oh,” is the only word she can manage. She finds it hard to look away.

Jandelaine is almost audibly preening. “‘Twas my pleasure, madame.”

–

_Haurchefant finds Thosinund by the fire after a day’s rounds, drying her hair, and the sight makes him catch his breath._

_She looks up at the sound, sees him standing there mesmerized, but he cannot help it. Her hair unbound, still slightly damp in places, glows in the firelight like the sun low over the horizon._

_“Well hello,” she says, and laughs softly. “Your face is a picture of- I don’t know what. Something the matter, love?”_

_He clears his throat, comes over to join her. “Oh, no, I’ve simply come into a previously ordinary room and found it occupied by an angel. As one does.”_

_“Flattery will get you everywhere.”_

_“I’d settle for its getting me right here.”_

–

Thosi’s head seems physically lighter, now. She goes about in a slight daze for the next bell or so, full of vague thoughts of showing off the new look; her feet carry her to the Rising Stones practically of their own accord. 

Alisaie doesn’t seem to realize just who is approaching until Thosi is within five fulms of her—whereupon she registers a double take. “Goodness,” she says after a suspended second. “That’s quite the chop.”

“I told him not to take off too much…” Thosi runs her hand over her head for the umpteenth time. “It’s not too much, is it?”

“No,” Alisaie assures her, almost instantly. “It looks good, I was just- surprised. The Great Vanishing of the Eternal Plaits—well, the Partial Vanishing,” she amends.  

“Whose plaits are vanishing?” This from Clemence, coming over from the far end of the room; she answers her own question in the next breath. “Oh, Thosinund’s—my word. The others will certainly be surprised, won’t they?”

That hangs awkwardly in the air for about three seconds. “That is- well, you know. Alianne, Ephemie, the Boulder boys- those others.”

Nope. No. Thosi is  _not_ picturing the line of beds right now. That comes later.

“Alisaie, would you- want to come with me for a bit? There’s something I think I need to do.”

–

_“Why dreadful?” he asks her, after she has called him so for the third time that day._

_“Because you are,” she tells him, shaking her head with a grin. “There’s no helping it, you just are. Entirely too much so.”_

_Haurchefant clarifies. “Tis not the word so much that I question, but the phrase and the tone- I know you never mean it as an insult, yet it is a most singular expression. However did you come by it?”_

_She seems puzzled by the question, until a mortified look comes over her face. “Oh gods- it, er… It’s something my mother says. When Pa gets, ah. Well, when he acts even a little like you- talking sweet, things like that. I can’t believe I never thought about it before now—”_

_Haurchefant is sorry to cut her off midsentence, but he absolutely must kiss her for that. Thoroughly. Until she breaks away, saying his fringe is tickling her._

_“Look at you,” she tells him. “Look at this,” touching his nose, “and these,” kissing his eyelids, “and this by-gods ridiculousness,” brushing the hair out of his eyes. “You’ve got no_ business _being the way you are.”_

_“Dreadful?” he asks, smiling._

_“Irresistible.”_

–

The wind is frosty as ever, perhaps frostier, on Thosinund’s newly bare neck as she and Alisaie trudge up the slope of Providence Point. They’re both wrapped in fur-collared coats, and still the cold finds its way to her skin.

When they reach the memorial site, Alisaie seems… unsure. Despite having been briefed as they traveled from Revenant’s Toll, as they rode up and through Camp Dragonhead. She remains a step or two behind while Thosinund kneels in the snow and fumbles one gloved hand into her pocket, fishing out a folded handkerchief of a particular shade of blue.

“Hey,” Thosi says softly to the stone. “It’s been a while, love. I promised Alisaie I wouldn’t take long, but… I brought you something.”

She rewraps the kerchief bundle in her hand. A strand or two slips free from its folds.

“What do you think, hm? I’m sure you’re raving on about it even now. But I held onto this for quite a while without you—maybe too long. So I thought it best to bring it here.”

She digs a little hollow in the snow, perhaps six ilms deep. Nestles the bundle down within, then pats the snow over it again.

“The heavens have turned, Haurchefant. Til next time.”

–

_He watches them go. She and the girl who so resembles Master Alphinaud. They wait til they are well out of sight of the memorial before saddling back up. Of course they do not know he can still see them, but Haurchefant appreciates the gesture all the same._

_That night she sits for a few moments at the bedside of each of her fallen friends. She talks a little to each one. Smooths hair off of foreheads, gently clasps hands in her own. His dearest, his love- in this moment neither goddess nor queen, but simply the kindest soul he’s known._

_When she goes at last to her own chamber, she lays down her head on the pillow and turns off the light. She does not sleep, though. Not for almost a bell._

_‘Be at peace, love,’ he whispers, though he knows she cannot hear.  
_

_He blows her a kiss, and her eyes finally drift shut._

**Author's Note:**

> I think Jandelaine's little speech when you summon him is, well. A bit rude. So I rewrote it. (I know, I know, his whole thing is that he's an Artist with the follicles, hence the actual line he says in-game about raising you "from the darkest depths of unseemly ugliness." Wonder what he says if you change your hair again later? Guess I'll find out, since I fully intend to have Thosi go back to the braids eventually. I just... want to experience that non-collar-clipping life for a while....)
> 
> This was kind of a big deal for me, though. Since the days of their respective creations, none of my characters have changed their hair, but Thosinund is the first to break that streak. Hence all this musing.


End file.
